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THE WIFE'S WATCH.
Oh, his ship, it was doomed, they said,
But a man he was every inch ; "; I must earn, for my wife, her bread,
And I'm not the one to flinch." A minute, and I stood there
With his last kiss on my lips ; Oh, what, for wives, do they care
Who grow rich by the loss of ships !
The spring should have brought him home.
But I watch through the winter gales, Looking far o'er the racing foam,
All in vain, for his home-bound sails ; Oh, when will he come ? Oh, when ?
Will he never come back to me ? Oh, why are there heartless men
Who send husbands to drown at sea 1